


Arm Rings

by soprano_buddy15



Series: Peace After Battle [11]
Category: The Last Kingdom, The Last Kingdom (TV), The Warrior Chronicles | The Saxon Stories - Bernard Cornwell
Genre: Arm Rings, Battle, Father & Son - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-26
Updated: 2020-07-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:01:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,003
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25529347
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/soprano_buddy15/pseuds/soprano_buddy15
Summary: Young Sihtric earns his first arm ring.
Series: Peace After Battle [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1736485
Comments: 7
Kudos: 18





	Arm Rings

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Java_Blythe_Peralta](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Java_Blythe_Peralta/gifts).



> Hi everyone! I woke up super early this morning and figured that since there was no chance I would fall asleep again, I should do some writing and so I spit this out. Forgive me if it looks like word vomit. 
> 
> This is just a little one-shot that I’ve been imagining.
> 
> Again, this is for all of my lovely friends in this fandom! You are all beautiful, beautiful people. 
> 
> Constructive comments are always welcome! Just don’t be rude, because nobody wants that.

The skirmish was furious. The guttural yells of men filled the clearing, and the clashing ring of steel on steel echoed in everyone’s ears. 

Young Sihtric was still standing at the very edge of the fight, his seax in one hand, axe in the other. Men were running around him, fighting, swinging weapons left and right, but Sihtric’s blades were still clean. 

It was his first fight on his very first patrol for Lord Uhtred. His father had gone and requested that he come along, that he was ready to fight. Uhtred had agreed, believing that this first patrol would be a simple jaunt out to the edge of his land to establish the border. 

It had been a beautiful day. The sun shone bright in the vibrant blue sky, and the crops were just beginning to bloom. Young Sihtric was surrounded by Coccham’s finest warriors, but his favourite part had been seeing his father be Lord Uhtred’s third. His mother had explained to him at a very young age what his father did, but seeing it in action was something completely different. Finan was riding beside Uhtred, with his father just behind and Osferth beside him. They had been laughing and joking, Uhtred just shaking his head in exasperation at Finan’s constant rambling. 

Young Sihtric had been confident in himself earlier that day. He had been trained by his father for years, challenging Osferth, then Finan, and then Lord Uhtred himself sometimes. He enjoyed the rush, the anticipation of a move by the opponent, but when Finan stood in his stirrups to scream at the men that an ambush was upon them, Young Sihtric could only go numb. Men were rushing out of the bush, and suddenly his father was on the ground, driving his seax up and under the leather of a Dane. 

Somehow, he had found himself dismounted and on the ground. His father was fighting with Finan, their backs to each other and protecting each other. Young Sihtric could only watch in wonder as his father slashed and hacked at the ambushing Danes. With a particularly vicious swing of his axe, his father embedded the blade into the neck of an incoming Dane and blood spurted out. His father wrenched it out, only to turn and swipe his seax across the belly of another. 

“Sihtric, watch out!” Young Sihtric started at Finan’s voice. Glancing to his left, he ducked as a Dane swung his hammer, aiming for his head. The blow went over, and the momentum of the hammer caused the Dane to lose his balance. Sihtric swiped his seax across the ankles of the Dane, and he screamed as he fell to his knees. Before the Dane could even speak, Young Sihtric drew the knife across the Dane’s throat.

He fell forward, gurgling as blood poured out of the wound and out of his mouth. He was twitching for just a few moments before his body was still. 

Young Sihtric took a deep breath, feeling his stomach churn. He had butchered the goats in Coccham for years, and was expecting it to be similar. 

How wrong he was. 

This was a person. He had just killed a person. A little part of him knew that if he hadn’t, he would be dead right now, but he had _just killed a person._

“Sihtric!” He lifted his eyes from the body and they focused on his father. Blood was spattering his face and leather, and his hands were drenched. The skirmish was over, Uhtred and Finan searching for loot within the dead men. “Are you okay?” He was panting heavily, and he threw his weapons to the ground, taking Young Sihtric’s head in his hands and examining him. 

“Stop, Da,” Sihtric muttered. His father did not. “Stop!”

His father finally dropped his hands, but refused to step back from Young Sihtric. “Are you okay?” He asked again, but softer and more tenderly. 

Young Sihtric glanced at the Dane he had killed, and his father followed his gaze. “I don’t know,” he said helplessly. 

“I remember my first kill too,” his father said softly. “Unfortunately, it gets easier.” He knelt down and rolled the Dane over onto his back. He had an arm ring, and his father worked it off of his arm before holding it out to Young Sihtric. “You will always remember this day.”

Numbly, Young Sihtric took the arm ring. It was a small ring, nothing like his father’s or Lord Uhtred’s, but it was still significant. But Young Sihtric was still troubled. “I killed a man,” he said slowly. “And now I am rewarded for it?”

His father sighed, understanding. He placed his hand on Young Sihtric’s shoulder, squeezing it. “You are rewarded for what you have prevented,” he explained. He gestured to the field of carnage. “These men were hired to raid Coccham. The fact that we rode past them and they attacked probably saved many of the people still living there. Your mother and siblings included.” He tapped the arm ring in Young Sihtric’s hands. “Remember this day. Remember how you protected your family and your home.” With that, his father picked up his weapons and left to discuss what had just happened with Uhtred, Finan, and Osferth.

He examined the ring again. While it was small, it was still ornate. It looked as though the crafter had made two small silver wires and twisted them together. He slid it over his vambraces and it sat just below his elbow. The metal was still warm from its previous owner, but a sense of pride and honour flowed through him. He had worked hard to earn his first arm ring, and he knew that wearing the rings honoured the man he had killed. 

He wiped his blades on the grass, trying to get as much of the blood off of them as he could. Sheathing his weapons, he went over to his father and the others, smiling softly at the praise that Finan was giving him.


End file.
